


(Won't Act My) Age

by agenthill



Series: And, In Sign of Ancient Love, Their Plighted Hands They Join [9]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9692048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agenthill/pseuds/agenthill
Summary: She stays, not drawn in by the uncertainty, nor the strangeness of it all, not by the fame nor, truly, the cause, but by the challenge, to prove herself once again, to show that she is number one, is worthy of a place, here, or anywhere.Or,Hana wants to be seen as the soldier she is, worthy of her place among heroes, and not be dismissed by the elder members of Overwatch due to her age and supposed immaturity.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been thinking about Hana a lot lately! I just want people to stop dismissing her as some immature kid and recognize that she’s got just as much right to be in Overwatch as anyone ;___;
> 
> Crossposted to [tumblr](http://agenthill.tumblr.com/post/157181938026/wont-act-my-age).

There are many things in the world of which Hana is sure—herself, first and foremost, but also her abilities, her instincts, her reflexes, her aim. What she is not certain of is her place in Overwatch, and what to make of it. Neither, it seems, is Overwatch certain what to make of her. If she were a quitter, Hana might have left, the first week, might have gone back to certainty, and comfort, to her home—but Hana is a winner, and quitters never win. So she stays, not drawn in by the uncertainty, nor the strangeness of it all, not by the fame nor, truly, the cause, but by the challenge, to prove herself once again, to show that she is number one, is worthy of a place, here, or anywhere.

Much of Overwatch is easy to win over, easy to demonstrate her skill to—and skill, is, for them, enough to warrant a place. Pharah wants competent soldiers at her side, Mercy wants someone who is willing to watch her back, Lúcio sees in her a kindred fighting spirit, Reinhardt has faith in everyone, and McCree does not judge anyone, believing that to do so would be hypocritical, so long as they can shoot straight. For the most part it is easy, not nearly easy enough to hold her—but the exceptions, for there are always exceptions, are enough of a challenge that she feels she must stay, at least long enough to prove them wrong.

For no matter how sharp her aim, how good her instincts, how quick her reflexes, she cannot shake from Ana the moniker of child, cannot convince Soldier: 76 that her worldview, that life is a game (one she aims to win), is as valid as his ‘all soldiers’ outlook. To leave would be to admit defeat, to prove that she is every inch as immature as they claim, every bit as unsuited for battle—and she does not lose, so she must stay.

* * *

Fareeha comes to her first, before Hana ever voices her frustrations. At the time, they have yet to be on a first name basis, and so it comes as a surprise. Before the moment Fareeha first takes her aside, all Hana sees is Pharah, or Captain Amari, stern, sure, and intimidating, but once they speak one on one, Hana wonders how she ever missed Fareeha, gentle, perceptive, caring for her team and for her family.

“I know they can be difficult,” says she, and Hana, who was certain that this conversation was going to be about the fact that she was chewing gum during the mission briefing, does not know what to make of it, and does not reply. “My mother, I mean,” Fareeha explains, “She and Jack. They’re very set in their ways and—I know it can seem like nothing you do is right, in their eyes. I feel that way too, sometimes. But they’ll come around, I know it. You’re a good soldier.”

“Oh,” says Hana, and then, remembering that she is meant to be D.Va, bright and confident, adds, “Of course they will! I mean, how could they not love me, I’m amazing!”

Fareeha chuckles, but does not seem to be completely fooled by the act, “That you are. Even so, I just thought I should tell you. It’s hard thinking that the people who should believe in you most don’t, feeling like you can never measure up to your expectations. You should know that you don’t have to prove anything, to some of us.”

“I don’t have to,” she says, “But I will. I’m not just number one at StarCraft!” She will, because she can, and she never needed Fareeha to tell her that—even if it did feel good, to know that she had the approval of her teammates.

* * *

Next is Angela, which is even more surprising, perhaps, than Fareeha. She calls Angela by first name already, as everyone does, but not because they are close; Angela just prefers it that way. Such a thing sounds friendly, but truly Angela is distant, removed from everyone as much as she can be, it seems to Hana.

So she catches Hana off-guard when she asks to join her for dinner one evening. Rarely does Angela take dinner with anyone, save for Fareeha.

“I didn’t miss a check-up, did I?” Hana asks, a little nervously.

“No,” says Angela, and does not elaborate. She seems like she is thinking, but Hana does not know her well enough to say whether she is considering her next words or simply back to thinking about… whatever it is she does in her lab.

The silence gets to Hana. “Then why are you like, here, and not off somewhere with lovebird number two?” she asks.

“I’m here because…” Angela frowns, pauses, seems to reconsider her line of thought. “Honestly?”

“Yes,” says Hana, not entirely certain what is happening.

“Fareeha sent me. She thought that, because I used to be the youngest one in Overwatch, I might have something useful to tell you about adjusting. I don’t though. I didn’t really do anything to make them respect me, other than do my job until eventually everyone stopped seeing me as a child and saw me for what I had achieved, instead.”

Of _course_ Fareeha would do something like that. In the weeks since their initial conversation, she seems to have taken integrating Hana into the team as a sort of pet project—regardless of whether Hana needed the help or not.

(A part of Hana knows that Fareeha would stop, if only she asked, but she does not truly _want_ her to—Fareeha feels less like an overbearing adult, and more like an older sister, and that is something Hana has never had.)

“Well,” says Hana, “Thanks I guess.”

“You’re welcome,” says Angela, because _of course_ she would. “Let me know if I can do anything. I don’t really think either of them would listen, but if you want me to talk to them, I can.”

“No thanks,” says Hana, and then tacks on a “no hacks needed” for extra effect.

“Good,” says Angela, seeming relieved.

* * *

When Lúcio says something it almost, _almost,_ no longer comes as a surprise. After all, the two of them are friends, and have been since before either of them joined Overwatch.

“You know,” says Lúcio, “I don’t think Soldier really likes us much.”

“No,” says Hana, “He really doesn’t. I think it might _actually_ kill him to admit  
that being happy with your life and having fun sometimes is a good thing.”

“That’s true!” Lúcio laughs, “The stick is way too far up his ass for even Angela to remove, at this point.”

For a moment, both of them laugh, but then Hana adds, “It isn’t just him though, you know.”

“No?” Lúcio seems genuinely surprised. “I haven’t had any problems with anybody else. I mean, Torbjörn is wanted to take apart my gun, and got kinda pissed when I wouldn’t let him, but that’s a given, I guess. He’s just being an engineer.”

“Doesn’t it bother you though, the way Ana talks? She treats me like a child!” Lúcio just looks confused, so Hana adds, “Plus, she’s _always_ with him. Like 24/7! I’m sure they talk about us when we aren’t there.”

“They are close,” Lúcio agrees, “But I think that’s just trauma, man. They both lost a lotta people. Shit messes with you.” A pause. Neither of them has to say anything, for both of them have seen it in their own short lives, both of them _know._ “And the kid thing… I mean, that’s just the way she is. I swear she called Reinhardt a naughty child the other day, and he’s the only one here older than her!”

“Maybe,” says Hana, and doesn’t add anything gimmicky, because she knows that with Lúcio, she does not need to, and it is nice, sometimes, to be authentic, only Hana and not D.Va.

* * *

True to form, Reinhardt acts before he speaks. Or, rather, he acts by speaking, but not to Hana, and he does it before he tells _her_ about it, before he asks what she would prefer.

“I spoke to Ana,” he begins, and _oh,_ Hana knows already this is going to end badly. “While I could not make her agree that her way was wrong, I have extracted a promise from her that she will consider amending her ways.”

“You _what_?” Hana asks. “Why! I don’t _need_ you to intervene! I’m not—”

“—A child, I have heard. And I believe it.” She narrows her eyes, and does not yet say what she is thinking, _then why treat her like one?_ “I know that you are a fearsome warrior, and that you are worthy of fighting at our side. As does Ana.”

“Then—” Hana tries to interject, but Reinhardt just keeps speaking, and in a contest of volume she cannot possibly win.

“That does not mean, however, that _she_ does not need me to intervene.”

“Wait,” says Hana, “What?”

“It is easy for you! You are known for changing tactics mid-match, are you not? Some of us do not think to change, unless we are told to do so. I merely prodded her, a bit.”

“Oh,” says she, “Thanks I guess. I mean I still don’t need help but— _wait, you watch my streams?_ ”

For the next few hours, all thoughts of her conflicts with certain veteran members of Overwatch are forgotten, as she discusses lane configurations and the merits of solo-queueing with Reinhardt.

* * *

Last to come to her is Jesse, and he does so most indirectly of them all. Nothing he does is direct, really, including the manner in which he swaggers up to her, that afternoon, standing in the debris of the battlefield after a mission hard-won.

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?” he asks her, and sounds genuinely interested—as if he, and the world, did not already know.

“16-Bit Hero!” she answers, still in her D.Va persona following the firefight.

“It’s some mighty fine shootin’,” he says, and Hana can tell he is leading this somewhere, but she cannot, for the life of her, say where.

“How about you?” she asks, “Who taught you to do that whole, you know,” she closes one eye, raises one hand as a fake pistol, “ _‘It’s hiiiiiiiiigh noon’_ thing?”

He laughs at her, and she thinks it fair.  She may be number one at gaming, but Hero of the Storm taught her that she does have limits—and acting is one of them.

“Well,” he says, “I can’t rightly say anybody taught me _that,_ but it’s Lieutenant Commander Amari who taught me to shoot like I do.”

“ _Ana?_ ” Hana cannot imagine Ana coming down from one of her various perches long enough to teach anyone anything.  For someone so overtly mothering, she maintains a careful sort of distance.

“That’d be the one.  She taught me and Angela, gave Lena a few pointers, hell, she apparently even helped old Torbjörn out, back in the day.”

Hana almost interjects, but thinks the better of it.  Jesse will get to his point… eventually.

“My point being, she has a real thing for accuracy.  Takes under her wing anyone who doesn’t meet her standards, forces ‘em to work with her every day ‘til they’re decent.  Well, ‘cept Angela—there’s no helping her.”

“…And she never taught me.”

“That’s right,” Jesse agrees, “Never felt she had to, apparently.”

“Ha!” says Hana, and then, as D.Va, adds, “That’s why they say I’m the best!” because it is easier for her to say that than to admit that she had worried, all this time, that she failed to measure up in Ana’s eyes, that she seemed a child.  Better to seem cocky than insecure.

“Sure is.”

Maybe Hana has yet to convince Ana to drop the ‘child’ thing, entirely, and Soldier: 76 still seems to dislike her, but _Ana_ respects her, and that is a victory in and of itself.

_D.Va – 1, Old Folks – 0._

**Author's Note:**

> With this, I officially cross the 80k threshold for this series. Which is a lot! In the publishing industry, they advise that manuscripts be less than 80k, so we are officially past the point of a 320 page novel, folks! Be proud of yourself if you've read all of it. That's a hell of a lot.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave your thoughts below, and hopefully you're having a good day/night/afternoon/morning etc.


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